Gemotions

"The estate goes to your sister, Beatrice," the stern-faced solicitor had announced. "And to you, Mr. Alistair, the family observatory." Alistair, his stomach a knot of dread, looked at the document, his name appearing in a script that seemed alien to him. He ran a hand across his forehead.

The observatory, perched atop a windswept hill, had always held a strange allure. Now, it felt like a prison. He knew nothing of telescopes or celestial bodies, but he felt an undeniable obligation.

He entered the domed structure, the air thick with the scent of dust and old metal. A massive telescope, its lenses gleaming ominously, dominated the room. He felt a sudden, inexplicable urge to look through it, a compulsion he fought against.